chapter THIRTY-TWO
It’s been a month. An aching, antagonizing month.
When I got back to Cedar Ridge, flying commercial, my dad was at the airport with open arms. I didn’t want my parents to hate Alexander, so I told them the story.
I know it wasn’t my story to tell, but they deserve to know why their daughter is upset.
More importantly, I needed them to see this wasn’t breaking me like I was a year ago.
My inner strength gives me the resiliency to stand tall, no matter what happens.
I spent the Christmas holiday with my parents and watched the snow fall over Cedar Ridge.
Every day I waited for my phone to ring.
It didn’t.
I waited for the knock on the door.
It didn’t come.
I waited for my bed to squeak.
It did, but only by me.
On January third, my family gathered at the cemetery.
I can’t believe my year from hell is over.
I made it.
In one year, I had (what I thought was a) heart-wrenching breakup with the man I thought I was going to marry. Now, I laugh at the idea I was ever upset about the douche with a flute.
In one year, I suffered the devastating loss of my baby brother. My soul still aches for him, but I cry less, and I can now say his name out loud.
In one year, I am starting not to think of the accident as the day my dreams ended.
They just changed. I still squeeze my palm and feel the burn tingle up my hand but it hurts less.
The therapy I’ve been keeping up has helped a lot.
I’ll never play professionally again. That still makes me sad. But I have found a love for teaching.
The day after Luke’s anniversary, I came back to New York. For the last few weeks I’ve been working hard. Classes resumed after the winter break. Crystal resumed her classes at night. Every day I open the door to my office and look for a rose tucked neatly in my notebook.
Sadly, there hasn’t been one.
With each passing day, I find more solace in my new city.
Even in the cold, I sit in Washington Square Park and listen to Allyce play “La Vie en Rose,” just for me.
Mattie still comes down for dinner once in a while and makes me laugh with his wild stories of a young twenty-something in New York City.
And, yes, I still have to rescue him when he’s locked out.
Crystal and Lisa have taken turns spending time with me after hours.
From tea at Balthazar with Crystal, to trips to the Museum of Natural History with Lisa and her kids, they’ve helped me navigate this new chapter of my life.
They don’t know why Alexander and I are taking a break, but they sense I need the company, and I accept it.
It was no surprise that when they learned today was my birthday they offered to take me out, but I opted out.
For some reason, I just feel like going home, drinking a glass of wine on the chesterfield, and listening to music.
It doesn’t sound like much but, to me, it’s the perfect way to turn twenty-six.
I lock my office door and then Crystal’s classroom door, stopping for a second to recall how wonderful it was to watch Alexander teach. He was the most brilliant lecturer of music I’d ever seen. Shame he’ll be too busy to teach again.
Yes, I’m assuming he chose the empire.
Let’s face it. It’s been twenty-three days since he had to make a decision.
Our love affair was short, but it was intense.
He could have told me about the monumental decision he had to make.
He probably never truly trusted where my intentions were.
Even so, I can’t believe he didn’t come for me, to tell me what he chose.
Better he didn’t. He should have known by the gift I gave him where my heart was.
For Christmas, I gave Alexander a photo of his mother playing the cello at Julliard.
My mom came up with the idea after he left.
I called the school before they closed for the holiday break and someone was kind enough to find a photo of her in their archives. I had it framed and matted for him.
Wrapping the gift, I had no idea how symbolic it would be when I presented it to him. I wanted him to choose his family.
Swinging open the heavy stairwell door, I walk down the stairs and nearly stop at the sound of music playing from the concert room on the first floor.
It’s not the orchestra sounds I heard a few months ago when Alexander brought the philharmonic here.
This is different. The sound is a lonely sound. A single sound. The dance of a piano.
I open the first floor stairwell door and walk through the lobby, the piano heard cleared the closer I get. The tune is familiar, a song I’ve heard before. A song I heard played in this same room.
My palms rise up against the oak door that leads to the concert hall. Tacked up against it is an envelope.
My heart skips a beat, my lungs fall into my stomach. Can it be?
Please, God, tell me I’m not dreaming.
Opening the door to the room, I take in the site in front of me.
Alexander, in the center of the stage, alone. He is seated at the grand piano, the same he played this song on. This time it is just him. A man and his piano and a song I pray is meant for me.
Cascaded by the low light hovering over the stage, he is luminous.
His golden strands and bronzed skin make him look like an angel.
The cut, masculine lines of his face under velvet skin, his eyes closed, feeling the truth in the melody.
His broad shoulders, hovering over the keys as he plays with passion, those strong fingers working the keys with conviction.
And, around him, bouquets and bouquets of yellow roses with red tips.
Falling in love.
With the envelope in hand, I open the fold and slide out a simple white paper. On it are words I’ve read before.
The lyrics to the song are as beautiful as the melody.
Yet, the most powerful words are those written at the bottom of the page.
His name. He kept his name. He chose family over fortune.
I don’t wait for him to finish. I run quickly up to the stage, taking the steps up two at a time and stopping in front of the grand piano. His eyes open and when he sees me, there is little surprise on his face. It’s as if he knew his song would lure me to him.
“You’re here,” I say as his fingers work the last chords of the songs, softly now.
“I am,” he says with a smile. I place my hands on my belly in anticipation of what he’s about to say. What his decision was, what he plans to do with his life next, what this means for us . . . My mind is a mess.
“Sorry I took so long. I had a few things I had to take care of.” Alexander is now standing in front of me.
I hold up the white paper and take a deep breath. My mouth is dry so my words come out a little course. “Does this mean you made a decision?”
“It means I did the right thing,” he says, his hand dipping into his pocket.
I don’t know what “the right thing is” so I just stare at him waiting for clarification. He doesn’t offer me any. Instead he is lowering himself . . .
. . . down.
To the floor.
On his knee.
He’s on his knee?
He’s on his knee!
“Oh my God!” The words fly out of my mouth as he pulls his hand out of his pocket and produces a ring. A gorgeous, solitaire diamond on a metal band. It’s simple and beautiful and so much more than I ever could have asked for.
“Emma Paige . . . Today is a day my life began and ended. It’s a day I looked on in sadness.
But then one day, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, with blonde hair and beautiful brown eyes in nothing but a bathrobe stunned me with a song.
I fell for you the second I saw you. And every time I learned something new about you .
. . about your passion, your strength, your joy . . . I fell harder and deeper.
“Fate meant for us to find each other. The day I dreaded is also the day you were brought into this world. How can I hate such a day that created the most perfect vision on the planet? So I waited for today, the day I no longer want to look on with sadness but as the day my life begins again.
“Will you marry me? Will you make me the happiest man by being the first person I see at the beginning of the day and the last person I kiss at night? Will you be my wife and be my family? Will you, Emma Paige . . . will you be Mrs. Alexander Gutierrez?”
Io sono il suo.
I am his.
I practically fall to the ground and into his arms. Taking his head in my hands I kiss him. I kiss his eyes and his nose and his mouth and his chin. I kiss him all over and with each kiss I say the words. “Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.”
Those full, lush lips widen into a gorgeous smile as he takes my mouth into his, sealing the moment. He holds up my left hand and slides the ring onto my finger. I look down at it and can’t believe how stunning it is.
“This is too much. We can’t afford it,” I say, and my heartbeat comes down from its historic elevation.
“Why can’t we afford it?”
“Because you kept your name. You gave up the business,” I say and then stagger back. “Didn’t you?”
He plays with the ring on my finger. “This looks perfect on you—”
“Alex—”
“I did. Are you mad?”
“Mad?” I blink back. “No. I’m relieved. But, you didn’t do this because you thought it’s what I wanted, did you?”
He slowly shakes his head, his hands holding me from behind, the warmth of them enveloping me. “No, I did it for us. Before you, I never believed anyone would want me as the poor kid from Pittsburgh. I never wanted any of it. I just needed someone to believe in me in order to give it up.”
“I do believe in you. I want to be your wife even if that means we have nothing.”
“I wouldn’t say we have nothing—”
I sit back on my knees and rest my hands on my thighs, my head tilting up at him for an explanation. So he gives me one.
“I signed the company over to the board of trustees, claiming my name and seizing everything that was bought under Asher Industries. But, I still got to keep a few things.”
“Huh?” Yeah, that’s all that I can muster.
“There’s Black Dog,” he says pointing to me as if I’m familiar with it, which I am. “I also own a production company, and then there’s stock I purchased with my own money and a trust fund from my great-grandfather that’s untouched.”
“Oh.” My lips purse together in confusion. “Alex, that’s not considered poor.”
“It is when you consider the fact I just signed over a billion-dollar business.”
I laugh and shake my head at my sweet Alexander. He is going to have to give up his three thousand–dollar scotch. The plane is definitely gone too. I hope he likes shaving his own beard.
“How were you able to keep the recording studio? Wasn’t that an Asher property?”
“Actually, It’s an Emma Paige property. I transferred it to your name the day I saw you teaching that boy how to hold a violin.
I fell in love with you in that very moment.
Something changed in me. All the anger I was holding, all the doubt I had vanished.
And when you threw that violin at me in the back of the car?
That was when I knew I was going to spend the rest of my life chasing you until you came back to me. ”
I feel like the Grinch whose heart grew three sizes because mine is about to explode. I’m not going to lie. I’m scared. I am absolutely petrified that this is too good to be true. Frightened how tomorrow it could all fall apart. I could lose Alexander and I could lose myself.
But I’m not going to let the possible hurt keep me from experiencing happiness. Never again. I am going to live and I am going to love and I am going to burn.
“What about the school? Will the Juliette Academy have to close?” The sudden guilt at what his decision means to the future of the greatest school I’ve ever known his me hard.
“The school is fine. They gave it to me as a parting gift. Looks like no one on the board wants to be bothered with it. What do you say, wanna run a school with me?”
“I’d love nothing more.” And it’s the truth. It’s not the life I chose but it’s the one that I was meant to live. “Thank you for choosing us.”
“Thank you for choosing me.”